Five Years From Home
by slytherinrules85
Summary: A sporadic series of ficlets detailing the five years Blaise Zabini spent from home. In the R trilogy universe takes place between Roommates and Resolving.
1. December 20, 2001: Blaise

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter.

**A/N:** So while you're waiting for chapter six – which, sadly, is going to be a long wait as I need to write several more chapters before I submit it – I thought I would entertain you with this Resolving-cookie that I wrote as a bribe for a friend of mine. xD Enjoy!

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December 20, 2001

Blaise sat back in the restaurant's wicker chair and looked out over the beach. He'd been in Melbourne for a month now, and his arm still hurt from when he'd broken while he had been in the Philippines. He rubbed it, and as he did so, his kneecap hurt from when he shattered it in Moscow. He winced when he thought of that; it had been in the middle of the fall but it had been freezing cold. The Death Eater that found him chased him through the sewers – in the end he had to burn his clothing, he never managed to get the smell completely out – and once he finally cornered Blaise, as he was searching frantically through the muck for his wand, he kicked him so hard, and so many times, his kneecap shattered under the pressure.

But this time was different. He came to Australia to have a break; to get away from all of the Death Eaters while he planned his next course of attacks.

This was also his third Christmas away from his family. He felt through his pockets until his found the much-creased picture of his whole family from the Christmas of '88, before he went to Hogwarts, before the family surface tension erupted to let loose a flood of hurt and anguish.

His parents were smiling and hugging each other. Lilithe was looking as she always did: mad at anyone and anything. But this was when she kept to herself, mainly, or her then-boyfriend, now-widowed husband.

He missed his family. God, how he missed them. Especially his sister Zel. When he'd left, she was pregnant. Now, he had a nephew or niece that was three, or almost was.

During his darkest nights, the vision of his mother being murdered by his sister replayed over and over in his mind so that he tossed and turned and sweated through even five layers of blankets and pyjamas.

He was so immersed in this, that he barely noticed the waitress coming over. It was only when she spoke again that he heard her.

"Coffee or tea, sir?" she asked, smiling. She was pretty, and she obviously knew it. Bright eyes and all that.

He smiled back, knowing his own looks. She turned pink around the edges of her face and it wasn't long until her ears followed suit. "Coffee, please," he replied.

And so his musings ended for the day.

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**A/N:** Remember to review this and Resolving! I'd love for it to have more reviews than my very first fic, Tutoring a Dragon, and so far nothing has surpassed it! Thank you for reading, thanks so much! 


	2. June 6, 1998: Hermione

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter.

**A/N:** Hey everyone! I hope you enjoy this, since I think that it's interesting, writing what went on with Blaise & co. during the period between _Roommates_ and _Resolving_. Anyway. I do hope you like this as much as I do. D Please review!

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June 6, 1998

Hermione sat in mute silence as she stared at the exact spot Blaise had Disapparated from. She had no idea where he'd gone, or really why. His vague ramblings about his secret and Death Eaters had been lost on her during their fight, during the last few minutes she'd saw him.

A few hours ago she'd been filled with knowing. She'd _known_ he would come back. _Known_ it. Deep in her bones, she had felt it. Now, she wasn't so sure. Blaise was – always had been – somewhat of a mystery. Who knew what really went on in his mind, but himself? Did anyone truly _understand_ him? Could anyone ever really know him? And, the most important question of all, did she really know him?

Before this year she hadn't spoken to him above ten times in her life. He'd been the shadowy Slytherin boy, the boy who hung around Draco Malfoy's shadow irregularly and with the might-as-well-have-been-a-ghost, Theodore Nott. She'd supposed he was intelligent; he'd been in almost all of her classes except Astronomy and Charms. She'd heard he wasn't in the Charms class with the rest of the students because – and there were several rumors to this – he was in a special Advanced Charms class that few qualified for or he'd already done all the coursework for Charms summer before sixth year. Some even said he'd taken his N.E.W.T. for Charms already and had been 'guaranteed' a position somewhere and was only staying on at Hogwarts for the fun of it.

Any of those rumors could be true, she reflected, with a snort. Blaise had always downplayed anything he could do well. He was not a showy person, really. She supposed she'd picked that up from not wanting to be like his sister, Lilithe. She couldn't blame him.

But there remained the fact that… she loved him. She always would. Even though he might not come back – which certain members of the camp had been suggesting, which is why she walked out to this spot for some solitude – it didn't matter. She loved him. She knew that some how, in some way, however twisted, he loved her too.

But she couldn't wait forever. Even though secretly, deep down, she knew she would.


	3. September 5, 2001: Blaise

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter.

**A/N:** I'm rating this an M for content – so please, beware. Thanks to my readers and please review!

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September 5, 2001

He leaned against the nearest tree he could find. Desperately, he wanted to wipe his face off but his hands were sticky with blood and – he supposed – brain matter.

It was disgusting; the sight in front of him, but Blaise looked anyway. Lucius Malfoy's corpse laid there, his skull almost completely destroyed. Blaise had been in the jungle on Luzon in the Philippines, near the Mayon Volcano in Albay Province, trekking through to find a city and stay off the radar when Malfoy had surprised him.

In the struggle, they'd rolled on the ground for a bit, trading punches and kicks and, sometimes, bites. And then Blaise got the advantage and Lucius's head was so promisingly above a rock that jutted out of the earth. He'd hesitated and Lucius had spat a comment at him, saying how once he was gone, his family was next and oh, oh, how they would suffer.

Later he would think back on it and shudder, remembering the blind rage that had encapsulated him. He couldn't see, couldn't think, and couldn't hear Lucius's screams as he slammed his head against the rock, again and again, until he stopped moving.

He looked around. There was blood everywhere. It was on him, on his clothing, on the trees and soaking into the ground. He examined himself and found that there were long, deep scratches on his back that were oozing blood, slowly though, since they had begun to clot. He winced as he pulled away from the tree and more cuts began to bleed afresh.

Falling to his hands and knees he searched through the underbrush to find his wand and cast some healing charms. The effort alone made him pass out. The pain of skin knitting itself back together and bone marrow hyper-producing blood and introducing it into his system was agonizing.

The next morning he woke up facedown in blood-soaked dirt and halfway in a pile of smashed brains. Half a second later, his brain registered the sounds of someone coming through the jungle towards him

His first thought was, "Oh, this is not going to be a good day."


End file.
